Hello Oblivion
by TheAlwaysEmotionalTeenager
Summary: The nurse's cloying voice broke into my thoughts. Finally. Away from that cold, unfeeling room. For some reason, though, Dr. Smith's office felt even colder. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, while I took out a cigarette and put it between my lips, waiting for him to speak up. Then he did, and I wished he hadn't.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Hey guys! I'm gonna start this off with a HUGE apology. I am SO, SO, SO, SO sorry! I know I said I would upload... a LONG time ago, but I had examinations, and I decided that it wouldn't be fair to post a chapter and then make you guys wait for a really long time for the rest. So now, I'm posting my second story! This was actually an assignment for school: We were supposed to write a scene in John Green's style. (Important: Anything in bold has been taken DIRECTLY from the book. Those parts, I don't own!) So I wrote a scene from Gus' point of view. Also, we had a 1000 words limit, so this is my edited version. I'll post the unedited, slightly longer version tomorrow. Please, please review, follow, favourite! I love when you guys do that! I hope you like it!

Warning: It's sad.

* * *

_Isaac: Hello?_

_Me: Isaac, it's me. Augustus. The Great Leader Of The War Against Cancer. _

_Isaac: I know, you **self-aggrandizing bastard**. Got your results yet?_

_Me: I'm on my way._

_Isaac: Call me when you know?_

_Me: Oh, I'm fine. **I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend**._

As we walked to the hospital, I noticed it was a beautiful day – but mom was busy clutching her necklace and dad was busy mumbling prayers under his breath. They didn't care.

I hate hospitals. The smell of sterilization – of disinfectant and defeat, of hope being drained away by an IV... The sounds of doctors and nurses chasing away the silence with medical malarkey... It actually makes me _miss_ The Heart Of Jesus. Screwed up, huh?

"Honey, hurry up!" Mom was holding the elevator open, but... **Taking the elevator was a Last Days kind of activity.** Hazel taught me that. And today _wasn't _my last day.

"I'll join you up there."

Stairs were hard, but they were hurdles I could make it through. Cancer was a hurdle too, but not one I could survive. The drugs were giving me a minute, and then an hour, but they wouldn't give me forever.

Today, though, I was victorious. I conquered the stairs – albeit slowly – and reached the nurse's desk, breathing heavily. "Hi. Augustus Waters - I'm here for my results?"

The nurse gestured towards the cold, white waiting room, and my heart sank. I'd been there too many times, and from my experience, they fostered negativity like love fosters hope.

False hope.

I sank into one of the uncomfortable chairs and tried to relax, leaning back and stretching. Mom and Dad sat upright and on the edge. They got more anxious every minute. Mom was biting her lip, and Dad was fiddling with his watch. I felt like I was watching a rerun I'd seen countless times before.

I flipped open The Price of Dawn, but even Sergeant Mayhem's terrifying adventures couldn't distract me from the antiseptics in the air; the hushed anticipation and mumbled realities filling the room. And in that moment, I developed a preference for Mayhem's infinite reality – **some infinities are bigger than others**; his was bigger than mine. I could throw him over hundreds of grenades – all I had to do was restart the game, and he would be good as new.

If only...

**_But the world is not a wish granting factory._**

"Augustus Waters?"

The nurse's cloying voice broke into my thoughts. Finally. Away from that cold, unfeeling room. For some reason, though, Dr. Smith's office felt even colder. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, while I took out a cigarette and put it between my lips, waiting for him to speak up. Then he did, and I wished he hadn't.

He gave me a month, his sympathies, and a bowl of candy to ease the pain. _Clearly_ he didn't know how to deliver bad news. Candy was for _children_. Then again, at that point, I didn't feel like Augustus.

I felt like Gus.

Mom was wiping away the tears on her face but they were replaced by more...

_One tumor replaced by another, a third replaced by a fourth. _

Dad was telling her "The Lord Will Protect", and "Everything Will Be Okay", but I was _dying. _**Everything that I did and built and wrote and thought and discovered **would disappear into oblivion.

"I'm going to die."

My shoulders started to shake and I abandoned Augustus. This was painful, and this pain? **It was demanding to be felt**. I cried. Mom and Dad came over and cried with me. Dad doesn't cry much, but he did then. I looped my long arms around them and heaved silently, letting the sounds of their sorrow drown mine.

We left with red eyes, leaving only Kleenex and candy wrappers. This time I took the elevator. Turns out, today _was _my last day. The ride down was silent, but the silence was weighted down with things we didn't want to say. Mom was gripping my hand tight enough to stop circulation, as if she could hold me here if she tried hard enough.

When we got to the car, I cringed and turned away. There were Encouragements everywhere. 'The Lord Blesses Us' on the bumper, 'It's Always Darkest Before Dawn' on the windshield, and 'Love Conquers All' on my window. Hah. I snorted and ripped that off.

Turns out, cancer is stronger than love.

I remembered how people in cancer books said that _saying _it makes it more _real_. I repeated, "I am dying," again and again and again in the car... Like a prayer.

The books made that up. Saying it out loud didn't make it any real-er, it just made it _harder_. Mom had her hands over her ears. She was shaking her head frantically, as if not hearing me would make it go away. Dad slammed on the brakes. "We'll get through this. _Together, _son. Don't give up!" I heard him, but it's _so_ easy to give up when you know something is inevitable... _So very easy_. All I could think about was Hazel, and how she was wrong about being a grenade_. **I'm**_** the grenade. **I wanted to leave a mark – but like the majority, **I'm a dog, squirting on a fire hydrant, poisoning the earth with my toxic piss.**

I called Isaac. I didn't know how to tell him, so I said, "Isaac? This is Gus. I have good news and bad news.** You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments you cannot even imagine yet.** I'm not. **I lit up like a Christmas tree. **I'm dying."

I waited for him to respond, to say _something_. Oblivion is inevitable, but I _needed_ to know I wouldn't be **another unremembered casualty in the ancient and glorious war against disease. **I waited, but he didn't respond.

_The line was dead. _

I took out a cigarette, put it between my lips, and lit it.

_Hello Oblivion._

_©2014_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! So _this _is the un-edited, over-the-word-limit version of my pastiche. Honestly, there's not much difference, but I just like this one more! So, I hope you guys like it too! Again, anything in bold has been taken directly from the book, and I don't own it or anything else that you recognize.

Please read, review, favourite, follow! I really appreciate it!

* * *

_Isaac: Hello?_

_Me: Isaac. It's me. Augustus. The Great Leader Of The War Against Cancer. _

_Isaac: I know, you __**self-aggrandizing bastard**__. I have caller ID. What's up?_

_Me: Going to get my PET scan results..._

_Isaac: Good luck. Call me when you know._

_Me: It will be fine. I'm fine. __**I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend**__._

I hung up and forced The Tin Leg out of the car – It took some maneuvering, but eventually, he complied. Today was a good day, but mom didn't seem to notice. She was clutching her necklace and mumbling prayers under her breath. Dad's hands wouldn't stay still. His eyes wouldn't stay still either.

I dislike hospitals – as do most people. The smell of sterilization - of disinfectant and defeat - of hope being drained away by an IV; the sound of doctors and nurses chasing away the dead silence with medical malarkey. It actually made me miss The Heart Of Jesus. Screwed up, huh?

"Honey, hurry up!" Mom was holding the doors to the elevator open, but... **Taking the elevator was a Last Days kind of activity.** Hazel taught me that. And today _wasn't _my last day.

"You go on, guys. I'll join you up there."

Stairs were hurdles that I could make it through. It was hard, what with The Tin Leg and all, but it was possible. Cancer was a hurdle too, but not one I could live through. The drugs were giving me a minute, and then an hour, but they wouldn't give me forever. If I made it through today, I wouldn't the next time. If I made it through the next time, I wouldn't the time after.

Today, though, I was victorious. I conquered the stairs – albeit slowly – and reached the nurse's desk, breathing heavily. "Hi. Augustus Waters - I'm here for my PET scan results?"

The harried nurse gestured towards the waiting room, and my heart sank. I'd been in those rooms too many times, and from my experience, waiting rooms generally tended to lead to negative morale. Anticipation was... torturous. I sank into one of the uncomfortable chairs and tried to relax, leaning back and stretching. Mom and Dad, on the other hand, sat upright on the edge of their chairs. They seemed to get more anxious by the minute. Mom was biting her lip, and Dad was fiddling with his watch. I felt like I was watching a rerun I'd seen countless times before.

I flipped open The Price of Dawn, but even Sergeant Mayhem's terrifying adventures couldn't distract me from the smell of disinfectant; the hushed anticipation and mumbled realities that were filling the room. And in that moment, I developed a preference for Mayhem's infinite reality – **some infinites are bigger than others**, and his was bigger than mine. I could throw him over a grenade as many times as I wanted – all I had to do was restart the game, and he would be good as new

If only...

"Mr. and Mrs. Waters? Your son's results are in. If you could all step into my office for a moment..."

I've seen a _lot _of movies in my seventeen years, and that doctor's office will remain the most clichéd experience of my short life. He asked us to sit down and then droned on for 10 minutes, talking about the cancer, using a whole lot of words that meant nothing to me. I took out a cigarette and put it between my lips, waiting for him to give me the results. Then he did, and I began wishing he hadn't. He told me I had a month, put a bowl of candy on the desk, and walked out. Candy didn't fix everything_._ Candy was for children. Then again, at this point, I didn't feel very much like Augustus.

I felt like Gus.

Mom's hands stopped clutching the necklace. Instead, they were wiping away the tears on her face – but it didn't help. The tears she swept away were replaced by more, like my cancer. One tumor replaced by another, a third replaced by a fourth. Dad was telling her "The Lord Does Everything For A Reason", and "The Lord Would Protect", and "Everything Will Be Okay." But I was _dying. _In one month, all that will be left of me is pictures, mementos and memories. In a hundred years, those will be gone too. **Everything that I did and built and wrote and thought and discovered **will disappear into oblivion. Like me. "I'm going to die."

My shoulders started to shake and I did what Gus would do – I cried. This was painful, and this pain?** It was demanding to be felt.** Mom and Dad came over and sat around me and cried with me. Dad doesn't cry much, but he did then. I looped my long arms around them and heaved silently, letting the sound of their tears cover up the sound of mine.

We got up and left the room after our eyes were red and the all that was left of the candy was empty wrappers. Dad signed out, and Mom and I took the elevator down. We weren't talking, but the silence was weighted down with things none of us wanted to say. Mom was gripping my hand tight enough to stop the circulation, as if she could hold me here if she tried hard enough.

When we got to the car, I cringed and turned away. There were Encouragements everywhere. 'The Lord Blesses Us' on the bumper, 'It Is Always Darkest Before Dawn' on the windshield, and 'Love Conquers All' on my window. I snorted and ripped it off.

Turns out cancer is stronger than love.

I remember how people in books and movies say they're in shock when they find out. How _saying _it out loud makes it more _real_. I repeated "I am dying. I am going to die" again and again and again in the car, almost like a prayer.

Turns out the movies made that up. Saying it out loud didn't make it any more real. All it did was hurt my parents. Mom had her hands over her ears. She was shaking her head frantically, as if she thought not hearing it would make it go away. Dad looked at her and looked at me and slammed on the brakes. "Damn it, son! We will get through this! _Together._ Don't give up on me." I heard the words, but it is so easy to give up when you know something is inevitable... So very easy. I looked at him and tried to smile, but all I could think about was Hazel, and how she was wrong about being a grenade. I was the grenade. **I'm a grenade**. I wanted to leave a mark, but like most people on the earth, I'll be leaving scars. **I'm a dog, squirting on a fire hydrant, poisoning the earth with my toxic piss.**

I needed a distraction. I called Isaac. I didn't know how to tell him, so I said, "Isaac? This is Gus. I have good news and bad news.** You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments you cannot even imagine yet.** I'm not. **I lit up like a Christmas tree, Isaac. **I'm dying."

I waited for him to respond, to say something. Oblivion is inevitable, but I wanted to know I would be remembered. That I wouldn't be **another unremembered casualty in the ancient and glorious war against disease. **I waited, but he didn't respond – and I realized the line was dead.

The line was dead.

I took out a cigarette, put it between my lips, and lit it.

_Hello Oblivion._

© 2014

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hope you guys liked it!

Please check out my blog: foranyoneordinarylikeme dot blogspot dot com

Muah!

Till next time,

~ The Always Emotional Teenager

PS: I'll post my next story very soon! And I mean it, this time. Promise!


End file.
